Dragon's Dance
by Creeper Keaton
Summary: Once, long ago, there was a great and lonely beast. On the day the Hero laid him to the place of legends, an evil spread. It's a burden that Link, the Hero of Time, must now take up. With darkness affecting different realms, will Link overcome the terrible odds and accept another destiny? Will strongly feature Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, but there will be others.
1. Prelude

Prologue

* * *

It started.

Thousands of years ago, there was a creature that lived all alone in a deserted part of the world. One day, the wind carried the scent of a new creature approaching from far off. The great beast lifted its head, whiskers sweeping forward in anticipation.

An excitement lifted in the beast, as humans were so far and few between. Great and wide-pupiled eyes focused on the approaching figure. The man was slender, yet showed the wear of many a battle. He was stocky, with wisped hair catching the very wind carrying his scent. In his hair was a long, graceful feather the colour of blood.

The man tossed his bag easily at the feet of the beast before sitting in front of the massive claws. He showed no fear, just a mild curiosity as he was regarded. His voice was only polite as he requested a safe haven to rest. A feral grin marked the beast as it told tales of soldiers and heroes, all coming for the very armour it wore. It told the man of their shared valiance, and it told the man of their shared deaths, for it had devoured them all.

The man listened silently, before smiling gently at the great creature. He spoke of the pity he felt that the beast should be alone, forgotten forever by all and doomed to remain whilst all others moved on. This confused the beast, for it was fear itself! But the creature soon felt sadness, for it realized that it had never left that spot. It had never tried, for it had never felt that need. Now the hopes of all its victims echoed within, and a great weight was laid upon its shoulders.

With a desperate cry, the monster begged the man to free him from this prison, to start time for this deserted land once again. The man was kind, and pulled from his bag a deep and hollow drum. He sat, watching the beast with eyes far older than a youth should be permitted, and told the creature to allow time to flow.

For three days the man played, and the creature danced. On the fourth, the beast fell and did not again rise. The man rose and, with a final pitying look, removed the feather from his hair. Enchanted it sharpened into a blade, and this he used to slice away at the great beast's hide.

Practiced hands took and shaped the armour, carving and shaping until in his grasp he held a mask. A fearsome thing it was, for in it was locked the beast's powers. The man bowed his head, wishing to the Goddess Hylia that this evil may never again take hold of these free lands. One final glance and the man carried on, for a Hero's work is never done.

He thought no more of that mask.

Thought does not hinder action, however, and the creature's greed was not one that could be so easily vanquished. For years the carcass rotted, and the flesh and blood poisoned the ground beneath. The bones, so tainted from malice, began to fester as they were brought to light. Evil bred in the very marrow, and life was created. The Goddess Hylia saw this, and knew she could not allow such a being to be reborn.

She stepped in, dismantling the skeleton and scattering the bones far. Monsters would still be spread from the bone, but none so great as what once was. To further dissipate the cursed power, she herself took three pieces of bone and imbued them with her own powers. The creatures that hatched from these would be flawed by nature, but a goodness was there as well. They were not doomed to mindless avarice.

As one final deed before she drained her powers, the Goddess purified the lands the creature poisoned. Never would green thrive there again, but the land suited well for a castle to protect her people. As the great stone walls rose, Hylia called to her the three Creation Goddesses. To each, she assigned one of the flawed races. She pleaded with them to, in her absence, watch over these beings, for the temptation of darkness would always live in them. Finally, knowing that the lands were peaceful once more, the Goddess Hylia sealed herself away, awaiting the day that the Hero of the Ages would once again need her guidance.

* * *

This story will be an amalgamation of various Zelda titles, mostly focusing on Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, but it'll dip a bit into the mythology and legends of Skyward Sword. There will be an assortment of characters, but none will be as prominently featured as our Hero in Green.

I do not own Legend of Zelda, nor any of its various titles.

The first half of this story is a retelling of the original graphic novel story concluding Akira Himekawa's "The Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask". I do not own this either, merely borrowed the tellings for my own muse.


	2. Allemande

Allemande

* * *

Link feinted to the right as the swords bore down on him, his own left hand jabbing forward in a harsh motion. One sword skittered across the floor, the sound a piercing scream. He felt a gash open in his arm as the other assailant circled. He was being backed into a corner, and should they get him unarmed...

With a cry, he pulled his sword back in a wide arc before sweeping forward with all his might. With screams, the two assailants flailed backwards and gave the hero all the opening he could wish for. A quick dart, allowed by the smaller frame he held, had one, and then two hitting the ground in a daze. Link stood, a cautious eye on his enemies, when applauding sent him nearly a foot in the air.

"Link has done it again! Two sentries in under a minute!" The woman were surrounding, but never touching, as they cheered and whooped his accomplishment. A smaller woman stepped forward, her skin darker than Link's and her tunic the same colour.

"You really are the strongest man we've ever seen around here... Other than Lord Ganondorf, of course. Not bad, kid." As her face was covered by a veil, Link couldn't see the grin she tossed his way. "But, I do wonder, Little Hero... You come here every day, and for what? My Gerudo grow too attached to your fighting, and soon I shall have to drag you from their chambers. You are always welcome here, but I begin to wonder what compels you."

In truth, Link couldn't tell her. Not with words, as he could hardly explain it to himself. He had fought many battles, and he had certainly exceeded. He'd taken down Ganon, traveled the very corridors of Time, and even destroyed the moon. All of these things, and still he felt... restless. He gave a short bow and a small smile, one not often seen on his handsome face. He had grown since the adventures of his youth, grown since Termina. He was still compact, but it was the sturdiness of a warrior and not the lank of a dullard. It was easy to see why the Gerudo flocked the man, already into his second decade.

He excused himself, choosing to leave the question hanging. Besides, Epona would be getting restless and he had no time to spare chitchatting. He really did only visit the valley to take off the edge that the peaceful times gave to. There was precious little else for a washed-up hero to do.

He ducked through hallways to avoid the other ladies. The Gerudo Captain wasn't kidding when he said he may be dragged from their chambers. They were quite persistent. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief at seeing the familiar Clydesdale stubbornly munching at a dried bush. When she in return saw him, she whinnied happily and reached to pull affectionately at his cap.

After Link had saved Hyrule, and in succession saved Termina, he couldn't bear to lose Epona. Or, for that matter, a good deal of the things he had accumulated as an adult. He had visited Temple after Temple, taking whatever treasures remained. They were inhabited, yes, but not by such foul creatures as he had once faced. Epona he had been given, a gift to the 'Grasshopper' hero. She was his best friend, and had grown with him over these many years.

As she carried him over the fields, he allowed his mind to drift. They had been together for so long that riding was barely a conscious effort. Even the occasional fence leap couldn't dislodge him, as they had ridden these lands from end to end. It was always the same, and the courage that welled in his heart, Triforce or no, was getting far too impatient with it. As she leapt another fence, Link felt the disturbing weight jolt at his side. With a short call, he slowed her before vaulting off and landing with a soft thud. The short ride had put him just West of Castle Town, in a rather cozy stretch of field. It was private there, and perfect for a musing warrior.

He removed the bit from Epona before throwing himself to the ground gracelessly. One hand founds its way behind his head while the other reached to his satchel, feeling the jagged edges of the item within. He almost felt compelled to hold his breath as he flipped the lip of leather up and removed the mask. Majora's Mask. The thing was so significant that his mind automatically capitalized the word. The Mask. It was a frightening thing, eyes wide and filled with... He shuddered, not wanting to delve into the emotions the creator must have been feeling to carve such a face. As he turned it, the sun's light caught through the eye holes and for a second the Mask's yellow sockets glowed with a fiery hate, the deep purple nearly blood red. He dropped it with an alarmed yelp, before pushing a hand through his hair in exasperation. He perhaps should ease up on the 'hero antics', as the Princess was wont to call them.

He moved to grab it, then stopped, his hand still outstretched. The Mask had landed face-up, and the ring of grass around it was withering and yellow. As he watched, it blackened and sagged. A horrible, sweet smell of rot wafted up, but one unlike that of plant waste. It was more like the smell of meat, and indeed the ground had turned a sickly brown. The Mask stayed afloat of the gathering rot, even as the ring started expanding rapidly. His hand, anchoring him on the ground, suddenly fell through the semi-solid mass, depositing his shoulder and face directly into the mess. He let out an alarmed scream, gunk pouring into his mouth and trickling out his nose as he coughed. The smell was rancid, but again that cloying _sweetness_.

His body was falling forward now, head completely submerged. Everything was brown and black and so very, very hot. At least, he thought it was hot. The smell overwhelmed everything, His left hand remained untouched, twitching as feeling left it. The blades of grass under his fingers started to rot as well, stringing and tugging and pulling. He couldn't breathe anymore, and it was so thick...

With a horrible scream, Epona gripped his tunic and reared back, freeing Link from the quagmire with a horrible squelch. He was choking, hands spasming uncontrollably and yet he managed to throw an arm around her. She was backing up, his arm and her height enough to allow minimal dragging of the Hero. He managed to whip his left hand to his face, wiping at the slime to see the Mask rocket up on a pillar of death, throwing a tidal wave of infection. Link gasped and jerked his legs back, half swinging onto Epona to escape. Already it had started to corrupt his boots, forcing him to strip them off in a panic.

The Mask, still aloft, suddenly swiveled to face him. The stream of rot moved as its body, snakelike, as it darted forward. Link wove his arms through the reigns and jammed his feet into the stirrups as he kicked, sending Epona on a wild sprint. He didn't know if he could escape the thing, and he could feel his gauntlets and tunic decomposing. It wouldn't be long before it ate into the reigns, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would stay atop the galloping mount without them.

He looked back over his shoulder, fully expecting to look death in the face. What he saw instead was a glint, shining brighter and brighter until it caught the attention of the Mask. It whipped its body around, a sling of brown muck hitting rock and causing the cliff side to drip like melted wax.

The light was shining from within the rays of the setting sun, getting brighter as the dying light cast Hyrule Fields blood red. Perhaps it was the red light that made the appearance of the blue bird so noticeable. That, or the reflections on wingtips golden enough to look like they were spun. It swept in, a beautifully eerie song ringing in complete contrast to the silence of the Mask. At the music, the Mask pulled into itself, losing that snakelike appearance and drawing smaller and smaller. As the bird flew closer, so much larger than Link thought possible, the Mask launched upwards and wrapped around the creature, killing the song abruptly.

Its mass hit the already-rotted ground and sunk rapidly, body flexing and expanding as the bird fought to be free of its prison. Link hadn't even realized that his near-lifeless fingers had grabbed his Ocarina until the haunting melody of the Song of Healing rang out. The quivering mass contracted in time with his notes, before it simply exploded outward. The bird bolted up, wings tucked tight, before splaying them magnificently and flinging excess grime. The Mask was already fighting the effects of Link's song when the bird lighted and sang once more. The body was fluctuating wildly now, pieces that had broken off wriggling wildly in an attempt to merge back. But the song was too pervasive, renting it farther until it liquefied, and the Mask once more lay innocently on the grass.

The bird swooped from its perch, landing with massive feet on either side of the Mask. It stretched its neck down, clipping it up before hopping awkwardly over to Link. Each claw mark left flowers and fresh sweet grass. The smell was dampening the awfulness still clogged in his nose. It stood now in front of him and Epona, the latter trembling and frothing as she held steady. Her dark eyes were rolling madly in her head, but she held strong, even as the great beak moved forward and deposited the Mask in Link's ruined hands.

_You must keep this safe, Hero. Old evils are on the rise, and I am in need of a champion. This mask is the key to this world's destruction, and many will attempt to pry it from you. You must keep it safe, or we shall all perish._

His shaking hands held closer to the Mask, even knowing what horrors it had spewed. This bird spoke with the power of a Goddess, and her voice resonated inside him. He was a Hero of Hyrule, and it was his duty. He couldn't let fear or pain hinder his task. He clenched his jaw, then resolutely nodded. Even without a voice, he knew she had laughed.

_Such a courageous child. You will not be alone in your endeavor, Hero. Travel to the East, and speak to the People of the Mountain. They will have stories, stories told by their own to their own. You shall know once you have reshaped your very being where it is you must go next._

She arched her neck before swooping her great beak forward once more, a feather held lightly. When he reached to take it, his hands knit flesh and sores together, leaving them whole. He stared in awe at the feather, then tucked it carefully into his satchel. Standing painless and proud, he bowed low to the bird before slinging himself onto Epona's back, giving one final glance before spurning her into action.

* * *

As you have no doubt figured, this story branches pretty AU, from the moment where the Happy Mask Salesman did not receive Majora's Mask from Link. I'm not at liberty to explain this, as it will be in the story. This story will probably have a good bit of length to it, and there are as of yet no pairings. I may change my mind about that, but that will be decided much later on.

I should be updating at a reasonable rate, as the story is planned out. Hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment or rant. Thanks much!


	3. Candombe

Candombe

* * *

"You can't just _borrow_ the _Goron's Ruby_, Link! It's not a... a trinket to be tossed about!" Princess Zelda skirted the edge of the inner courtyard's flower garden, almost stomping her path into the grass. She had attempted to remain ladylike when Link had gallivanted into the castle grounds unannounced, had kept her calm when he had asked imploringly about the red stone. But for him to just... demand it?! She stopped abruptly, heaving a large breath. She had sent away the royal knights. It would not do for them to see her like this.

That didn't stop Impa from staying.

"Princess, you must remain calm. Do not let this boy's brash manners delude your own." Her red eyes swept over Link with a mixture of disdain and respect. The boy was a hero, true enough, but he was also always underfoot and where he shouldn't be. The fact that he had chosen to wriggle his way through the water ducts just confirmed her suspicions of him. The boy **had** access to the whole castle...

Link sighed, crossing his arms impatiently. He understood that Princess Zelda was a busy woman. It was mostly why they didn't have time to speak anymore. He also understood that crawling through the waterway and sneaking past the guards may have looked bad... But in his defense, he was garbed in the hero's green. In pieces. That alone should have been enough to get Zelda to listen to him! All he needed to do was borrow the thing...

Zelda has raised a hand to the bridge of her nose, a gesture Link was not used to. It made him realize how much they had both grown, and how little they saw of each other. If that morning's battle was any indication, this quest may even bring about his end. He sighed quietly, then moved forward. She was caught unaware when he wrapped his arms around her, but didn't push him away. He smelled... strange. It wasn't unlike her dreams...

She suddenly gasped and shoved him back, eyes wide. "A great bird! It visited you and brought creation to a desolate land! Link, tell me, is that what has happened?!" At his numbed nodding, her eyes closed in despair. "A monster is awakening, Link, and that bird is the beginning of it all. I saw this in my dreams."

She turned her back to him, stepping lightly towards the raised dais. "A man with a red feather beat life, and then death into a great dragon. The beast was split into many pieces, each carrying a shard of its power and darkness. But three pieces, they were unlike the others. One to carry the body's form, one to carry the wisdom. And the final piece... Link, that mask you carry, it holds the emotion of the dragon. All of the rage, the loneliness... It has found its way to you, and I feel it may use you to assemble itself once more. There was little else to my vision... All I can tell you is that you will not complete this journey alone."

Link started, hearing the Goddess's own words echoing from Zelda. He carefully pulled the mask out of his satchel, holding it with both hands. It was safe here, he knew that. He didn't know how, but a flickering of thought told him that these grounds were too pure. The mask would cause no troubles here. Zelda moved towards him, looking over the mask in silence. She lightly touched his arm, the right one, the one covered in tatters and burned fabric. "This is the damage caused by the mask, Link. It will only get more difficult from this point. I understand now why you need the Goron's Ruby, and it is yours for the taking. Link... Please, don't forget to come back to us." Her smile was innocent and young, so reminiscent of the day he first met her. With a strong smile, he nodded. He would never forget

* * *

Epona whinnied in earnest as Link led her out of the Castle Town. She was more weighed down than he had had her in quite a while, but Link was also going in more clueless than normal. He had, at Zelda's insistence, raided the treasure room of the castle. Many of his own treasures, ones found in temples and too cumbersome to lug around, had been left there for safe keeping. Now, Epona was carting a good chunk of them. His hookshot and Lens he carried, but Epona had the brunt of it; masks found in Termina, the bomb bag, both of his spare tunics, a bow, quivers, anything he could fit. His Mirror Shield was snugly attached to his back, and for safety's sake he had grabbed his gold gauntlets. He refused to be caught so unawares again!

He glanced to his left as he plodded through town. Once upon a time there was a Mask Shop there, with a very familiar character. In fact, the very same character that had sent him to retrieve the cursed mask that plagued him now. It surely can't have been a coincidence that the shop and keeper had disappeared the moment he had returned from Termina.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he hopped onto Epona once the way was clear. Her reigns were new, compliments of the Knight Commander's riding corps. They had offered to escort him to Kakariko, but he had refused. No sense waiting long enough for thirty men to gear up and ride out.

It was a quick trot to the wide stairwell cut into the mountain; one that was filled with Link worrying over how he was to set out on his own with all of the gear. Epona couldn't follow him all the way up the mountain... But he should be able to ride her to Goron City. With a jubilant cry he spurned her up the stairs, holding tight as she leapt gracefully. He didn't stop when they reached the village, didn't listen when the gatekeeper screamed obscenities at him as they galloped past. He would worry about getting her down all of those stairs later.

The ride up was refreshing, and much quicker than he was used to. It was there, at the gate to Goron City, that he felt the first tugs of worry at his gut. He held a mask in his hands once more, but not Majora's monstrosity. This time it was a round-faced mask, one with wide-set and happy eyes.

_The Goddess did say that they tell their own..._

With a deep breath he put it on, feeling the ripping and tearing of his body as muscle and bone reformed, as skin pressed outward to accommodate the growing frame. His mouth was forced into a scream as he filled into the skin of a Goron, and he was brought to his knee for a solid moment. Epona had retreated a step, but moved forward again to tug lightly at his green cap. He smiled at her, appreciating that touch of comfort. The transformations were never comfortable, but it was a necessity. Standing, he took her reigns and led her into the city.

* * *

Vibrations echoed throughout the black chamber, noiseless and dark dark _dark_. All-encompassing, haunting, seeping into the statuesque remains of the great beast. Just vibrations, beats of drums and thrums of long-dead songs. round and round and round an-

_CHINK_

A sound, so small but so significant. A single speck of stone, a tiny fleck, bouncing across the empty floor. One in thousands, millions.

But one. And one is just the beginning.

* * *

Goron City was always an ordeal; it didn't matter if Link's mission was a great trial or not, a feast must be held. On your way to the Temple to search for ancient treasure? Please, enjoy this granite sirloin. About to face a monster so great it was sealed in three separate entities? Sounds like a rock brisket night.

He had been hoping to skip all of this, going straight to Darunia and presenting the Goron's Ruby. It was the only way he could think to make the Goron leader trust that he wasn't a threat. But when Darunia had met another Goron, and one bearing the favour of Princess Zelda, celebrations were a must. It took many hours to calm the chief enough to even tell his story.

"So you wish to know of our past? I don't understand how our ancient stories will help you, Messenger. But, if that is what the Princess has told you, then it shall be done. But!" Link didn't flinch at the volume carried in that word. He didn't. "But we only share stories with our Brothers. And you, my friend, you are not a Brother of this tribe. You'll have to prove yourself worthy!"

Link grinned, lightly tapping his closed fist against an open palm. It had been a while, and maybe he was rusty, but...

The Gatekeeper was idly picking his nails, though squinting through the Keaton Mask did make it a bit more of a feat. He was so intent that at first he didn't notice the ground shaking. As he swept under a nail for a particularly stubborn piece of dirt, his ears caught something, forcing him to turn in confusion. And just in time for him to launch out of the way as two massive rolling Gorons shot by at speeds fit for, say, a loosed arrow. The knight scrambled to his feet and chased after them, waving his spear in the air and yelling as loudly as he could. Unfortunately the practice of wearing a mask whilst standing guard was again thrown into question as both Gorons suddenly lumbered right back past him, thankfully on two _feet_ this time, and all the time giggling madly as they dashed back up the mountain.

That night, the Gatekeeper's son finally got the mask he had asked his Papa about.

Darunia was near breathless with laughter, as well as the effort required to heave his rather large person back up Death Mountain. "I have never seen races like that, Brother! Exhilarating, almost as good as hearing the Forest Song! Follow, I will lead you to the ancient caves. Hah! Rolling races!"

They walked back through the City, Link taking one hidden moment to give Epona feed he had snagged from Kakariko before huffing his way after an oblivious Darunia. He was led around the ring, down and to a hallway. Darunia clapped him heartily on the back before making a sweeping gesture with his hand. "The younger of the Biggoron Brothers lives in this cave. Ask him for directions to your stories. Safe travels, and may no rock break your teeth!" With one more explosive laugh, and a strong Goron hug for measure, Link was left to stagger into the hallway. Those hugs were really as strong as he had feared...

A grating hum was getting louder as Link moved forward. He passed the jutting corridor sections where he had laid bombs. Getting to this guy hadn't been easy at first. He came to a quiet stop just in front of the much larger Goron, waiting politely for a moment before losing patience and scuffing his boot. The humming cut as the large head turned to face him.

"What's this, goro? Where have you travelled from? Are you here for my fine smithy work? Although, perhaps you wish for my Brother's skills. He lives at the summit of th- No, goro? Then what did you come here for, if not my work?" He propped himself up onto his elbows, looking Link over. His face changed, carrying a somber note. "I give great respect to Darunia, but I am older than him. I know the ancient magic that you seek, goro. You carry the Goron's Ruby, a symbol of the Royal Family. The path you're looking for, it's hidden in the east of our city." He pulled himself back into his grotto for a moment, leaving only a gaping hole and a glimpse of Goron hide. After the sound of catastrophic rummaging, he reappeared. " Take this, goro, and may no rock break your teeth."

Link stepped forward and took the glowing helm. It was obviously designed to fit on the massive head of a Goron, but the runes etched in it were far more intricate than he expected such clumsy-looking hands to make. "It was a gift, long ago, from our Goddess Din. She made us protectors of the Sacred Chambers, and told us that one day the Gorons would have their own Hero clad in green, goro. I'm happy I got to meet you, goro."

Link looked up and nodded his thanks, before turning on his heel and walking away. The east held the path... The only room to the east he could recall was the one filled with- He stared in shock down at the helm. This was going to be uncomfortable.

Link had had his share of land travelling. He'd even done a fair amount of underwater exploration. But spelunking into a pit of lava... He swallowed heavily, feeling his stomach twist a bit. He was standing on the edge of the squared pit, desperately trying to talk reason into the situation. **Sure**, he was about to jump into rock so hot it was molten. _Sure_, the helm was going to protect him, no questions asked... Clapping a vast hand onto his head to make sure the helm was secure, he squeezed his eyes shut and stepped forward.

It was... warm, yes, but he didn't feel like he had combusted into flame. Maybe the worst part of the adapting was managing to open his eyes, feeling the strangely _cool_ heat pressing at him. He swept his head from side to side, everything slowed by the drag of liquids. It was almost as bad as struggling with the iron boots **which** he just remembered were on Epona, along with half his other gear. He groaned unhappily. He was here now, and he couldn't waste the time going back. He would have to make do with what he had deemed light enough to carry. Even then, he couldn't very well change back to his normal form until he was well out of the lava... Here was to hoping that there were no monsters that enjoyed the heat.

He stepped forward, eyes adjusting just as they had when he was underwater. He found he had to squint, however, as the brightness was nearly blinding. After struggling for a moment, he realized that there was a path sloping down, underneath the rock platform above. His hand went up to guide him, and he found that the walls actually gave under his touch. Now that he was concentrating, the floor was doing the same, feet sinking in with every step and making the path seem all the steeper. Definitely hoping for no monsters, then.

He trudged along, getting more confident in his steps and actually coming to enjoy the pressing heat. It wasn't unlike the moments he had spent on Termina's beach shores at high noon, with heat and humidity wrapping around him. He lost himself in the thoughts, as the path simply stretched straight and offered no thinking curve to navigate.

It was the lack of thinking that made him almost face plant into the ground when his foot struck a molten ledge. Blinking rapidly, he realized he was staring at a submerged ascending stairwell. He carefully placed a foot on the bottom step, testing that it could hold his weight. At the confirmation, he continued up. He must have gone down quite a far ways, because as he climbed higher he could feel pressure mounting in his ears. The stairwell seemed to have come to an abrupt end, and he panicked for a moment, reaching his hand out to touch the ceiling. What he touched instead was dry, brutally hot air as his arm broke through the surface of the lava. With a grunt of surprise he climbed the last few steps until his head broke through, and then the rest of him. He was still on the stairwell, but the end of it was in sight. Crowning over top of him was glowing red stone, smoothed by the heat. It had completely encased this place. Taking the last few steps he was faced with (and at first he thought it was the Goddess Bird) a crumbling statue. It was smaller than she had been, but mounted onto a pedestal that brought the overall statue's height well over his own. The stone was pocked from the heat, but he could still see the shape of the powerful beak, guess how large the wings must have been when stretched. It looked so ancient, but still so proud. He laid a hand atop it and felt a tug at his gut, a calling from the sky. Spooked, his hand slid off, but his eyes remained locked.

It took a moment to shake the spell, to actually look around the room he was encased in. To his right he could see remains of dragon statues, far less lucky than the bird in front of him. Their jaws were in varying degrees of degradation, paint boiled off and eyes dull. The left held more promise, a glint of gold catching and outshining even the lava for a moment. Turning his full attention in that direction, he saw a massive door, partly ajar. A complicated gold cast lock was split evenly between the two halves, and still gleaming as it must have the day it was forged. He stepped forward, pausing at the yawning mouth to squint his eyes into the darkness beyond. It was impossible to see, the room far too dark in comparison. He couldn't even budge the doors to let in more light.

He stepped through the door, giving a start at the extreme temperature difference. The smothering heat wasn't nipping at his heels anymore, so he took the opportunity to remove the Goron Mask. Still a painful experience, but one so much more rewarding as he took a form he was much more familiar with. A hand readjusted his hat as he stepped forward, trying to get a feel for the great room he was in. It was still too dark to see, so he let out a frustrated huff and fetched a Deku nut from his pouch. With little thought, he whipped it at the ground and let a blinding flash of light take the room.

The flash only lasted for a split of a second, but it was enough for Link to see grasping hands reaching for him, powerful forearms wreathed in black ending with sharp, unforgiving fingers. Enough to catch glimpse of a featureless mass of a face towering over him, and enough for him to snag his sword off his back and swing with a resounding clang as his screamed reverberated off the walls, round and round.

* * *

As I get going, expect chapters to strive more for the length of this one. I actually do not know how long this work will be, but tuck in for a trip. I have the bare skeleton worked out but Link keeps adding bits here and there. Regardless, it should be a bit of an epic.

Thank you for reading, and with hope, enjoying this story! Feel free to review, but just seeing the view counter go up makes me happy.

As per the norm, I am not one of those lucky enough to own Legend of Zelda. I have disclaimed!


	4. Hasapiko

Hasapiko

* * *

Link whimpered as he lifted his head from the ground. Everything was fuzzy, from his vision to the stuffed cotton feeling in his mouth. His wrist was the only counterpoint, throbbing in time with his heart. His eyes struggled to focus, trying to find the mystery assailant. It was still so dark, and the minimal flood of light from the lava room was ruining any chances of his eyes adapting. It took a moment of adjusting before he was able to ease himself into a sitting position. There was no sound, no sign of danger, no uneasiness sitting in his gut. The hair on the back of his neck still lifted as he felt he was being watched, but there was no indication of that being true.

He struggled to his feet, left hand tucked into his ribcage. It wasn't broken, this he knew. But there was definitely some damage there, and he was only thankful that he had remembered to grab the gauntlets. They'd probably saved him about a month's healing time. His right hand he cautiously swept out in front of him, side to side like a blind man. When the side of his hand struck an unforgiving surface, he choked a yelp and took a half step back. There was no retaliation, so he carefully edged forward again. His hand met the same surface, only this time with a more gentle touch. Wouldn't do to have both hands injured.

The surface was smooth, almost impossibly so. It was cold to the touch, like rock or metal. His hand followed the stretch higher, feeling planes dipping and swelling. As his hand reached a dramatic slope, he started to get an idea of just what had 'attacked' him. His hand followed corded lines up a stretch, before settling on what was definitely a face. The way his hand was positioned, with his smallest finger brushing an ear and palm flat against a cheek, he could feel the regal definition and high cheekbones. The statue was tall, almost a head taller than himself. Confused, he ran his hand back down along the arm and all the way to the wrist and hand. The fingers were contorted in a grasping, clawing motion, but were not as sharp as he had imagined. Where he had struck, or where he figured, given the size of the creature, he could feel no obvious damage to the surface. As an afterthought he swept his foot out, stretching farther until he heard the skittering of metal on the ground. Stooping, he picked up his sword and ran the length along the leg of his trouser. The blade was sheared off almost mid-length, the other half lost along the dark floor.

He took a step back, keeping his eyes locked in the darkness where the figure stood. It had been hard enough to break his sword, the same sword he had kept such a strong grip on, and hadn't taken any damage in the slightest. And assuming whatever is was was just as old as the bird statue outside, it had fared a great deal better. He carefully rummaged through his satchel, pulling out a Red Potion. It would certainly take of the bite of pain in his hand. A quick swig and half the bottle was gone, and settling back into his pouch. As his hand moved to close it, he felt the smooth slide of the ocarina. Not having much else to help him light the way, he pulled it out. The likelihood of the Sun's Song doing anything to brighten this room was low, but he really didn't have anything else. Epona even had his bow and arrows.

As soon as the first note left the ocarina, there was a scuffing sound, light beginning to seep from a closed archway on the opposite side of the room and growing, growing until everything was bathed in a soothing blue light. It reflected eerily off the statue, now discernible at the centre of the room. He spun around to stare as the walls were brought into sight, eyes filled with wonder at the colours and patterns untouched by time. The crest of Hyrule, the same but different in a way he had only ever seen on ancient artifacts stared at him from nearly every angle. He started to circle, stopping when he saw two etchings directly above the lit door. They were round reliefs, green and orange, and he felt a kinship with them.

Staring long enough, he could suddenly see a flash of the Temple of Time, and he understood. They were, somehow, gates. Just like the one he had used to become an adult, before the Master Sword had locked it away for good. Glancing down at the ocarina, he hesitantly brought it up to his lips. If ever there was just reason to try the Song of Time, this was it. He closed his eyes as the notes echoed out, duplicating in the round room until it was just a mash of sounds. It was almost tearing at him, getting louder and more ringing, seeming to pour from the glowing doorway. He clapped his hands over his ears, whirling around as though that could stop the sound from reaching him. But suddenly, suddenly right there was the statue, face frozen mere inches from his own. Mouth open in a horrifying scream, hands clawing towards Link but he could only hear the ringing. The white glow of its mouth was blinding, bleeding down its chest and spreading. Link staggered back, hitting the door behind him forcibly. As soon as he made contact, the room _twisted_ and everything broke into silence. The comforting blue glow was back, and the statue had returned to the centre of the room.

He panted heavily, warily eyeing the thing. It's back was, as it had originally been, to him and the doorway he now laid against. With hesitant but sturdy steps he walked, guiding his hand along the wall, to circle back in front of it. The room was too large for him to be close to it, but even from that distance he could see the white beacon of its open mouth. With a tight swallow he moved forward. The thing did not change, nor even give an inkling of moving. He stepped up to it, noting a glint inside its mouth. Upon looking closer, he saw a key resting on a silvered tongue. It was tiny, much smaller than dungeon keys, and the metal still looked liquid, like it was still molten and was merely remaining shape by force of will. His hand twitched up, reaching the face before setting his fingertips cautiously on the black lips. When the jaw did not shift or snap shut under his touch, he quickly snagged his fingers inside and flicked the key out. It went skittering across the floor, but he was still staring at the statue.

Nothing happened, but he did notice a change in the colours along the wall. Blinking in surprise, he turned his head to follow the new patterns, possibly woken by the Song of Time that had started all of this madness. He jogged over to the silver key, scooping it up and tucking it away before looking up. His eyes flitted over the images and words, getting lost in the legend.

_The day of the Beast's defeat, the Great Goddess Hylia separated from these remains pieces of Evil. Should they remain together, she feared that the Beast would recreate its being, and once more reign terror over the Lands._

_From the Claw, she created creatures of the dark. They could not remain in the sun's Light, and so they were locked away in the Realm of Twilight. They were a possessive breed, dragging victims from the edges of the lighted lands. Infection Darkened the beasts, and pulled them forever more from the Land of Light. Din, Goddess of Power, Took from the Realm of Light Hylians who abused powers. These she stripped away, and forced into the Realm of Twilight. They became the Twili, a race to control the Darkened._

_From the Skull, she created spirits. They had no form nor place to inhabit, and thus she expanded the Realm of Spirits. To the Goddess Nayru she gave charge. Nayru knew of the greed of the Spirits, and of their wishes for things material. Oft times they led a traveler astray in search of possessions or flesh. When the creatures became too greedy, Nayru Taught a desert race the ways of appeasing these Spirits. By offering the Spirits material goods and respect, the Gerudo calmed them._

_From the Breastplate, she created the Fey. They would remain in the Land of Light, and be plagued by loneliness as the Great Beast once was. Farore, Goddess of the Realm, was given these as her charge. She watched over the Fey for many years, but even her watchful eyes could not stop them from stranding warriors in a great Wood, nor stealing from townsfolk infants that could not survive the harsh woods. The Fey, lonely by nature, lured many to their deaths. Farore Created for them a race of ageless beings, and called them the Kokiri. They were fated to forever be tied, as no single could be whole without the other._

His eyes widened slightly at reading the last segment. The Fey, would that make them... fairies? But if they needed to be bound to a Kokiri, what about Navi? She was gone now... Was she dead? He frowned, shaking his head lightly. He refused to stop looking. Pushing the thought aside, he turned slowly to look at the other walls. There were a great many stories here, all ancient legends now. Hylians riding large birds seemed to flock across the entire ceiling, and he looked at the red bird curiously. Atop it was a young man, if the etchings were anything to go by, clad in Hero's green. He wondered if this was the first Hero, the one to bring on the prophecy. It was an interesting thought. Eyes continued to wander, noting a bright blue sword locking away Evil's Bane. There was a tale he knew. But the sword had a woman standing behind it, one clad in blue. He cocked his head.

She had strange clothing, all blues and dark blues, and she looked to be _dancing._ Her leg was extended out behind her, wrapped almost like the Master Sword... Opposite to her, like a mirror, was a scratched and ruined image, the only one of its kind gracing the walls. He could make out a sword's pommel, a white-wrapped and ornate design. Much like the Master Sword's image, there was space for a person behind it, but it was completely obliterated. Was there possibly another Master Sword out there? He couldn't take the one from the pedestal; that would release the evil within. But he was in need of another sword, and maybe that was his option? Of course, that was just a guess. There were no other stories about a white sword anywhere on the wall, so perhaps it was just a minor hero's story with a strangely made blade.

Sighing, he turned back to the Gates of Time. They had remained the same when all else had gone, so maybe there was importance to them...? Link hissed in annoyance. There was so much guesswork! Best to start with what he knew, though. Gates of Time meant the Temple of Time, and that was as good a direction as any. There was a reason the Goddess had sent him here, and it certainly can't have been to make random guesses at wall drawings.

He glanced back at the statue as he headed for the doors. The closer he took to the exit, the more the lights dimmed. The statue was once again being lost in the darkness, and Link felt a small shudder of apprehension. It was almost sad though, to see it disappearing. It had lasted so long, stood against time all of these years. And he got the feeling that it hadn't always been like that, frozen in place. It was a very lonely image.

The pause to consider the statue's fate did allow him to remember to put the Goron's Mask back on, and with it he slipped back out into the inferno to begin his hike back to Hyrule.

* * *

Epona had been ecstatic to see him again, and he her. He was also overjoyed to see his gear, taking a moment to strap a good deal of it on. It would be heavy, but he wouldn't be at risk for such a stupid move as nearly breaking his hand on a statue again. The sword he had to do without, as the Hylian blade was obviously still in pieces. He made a mental note to stop at the town's bazaar in hopes of finding a worthy substitute.

The moment he had stepped into Castle Town, a feeling of nausea had settled over him. He picked up his pace, his satchel tugging more and more at him. He placed a hand over the contents, feeling the jagged horns of the Mask nearly thrumming. This trip would have to be mighty quick if he didn't want a repeat of the Mask Incident.

He was nearly jogging through town, offering quick waves to the townsfolk, when a shadow fell over his face. Blinking in confusion, he covered his eyes and peered up in time to see the Goddess Bird fly away from one of the spires of the Temple. None of the residents seem to have noticed it, but Link spun on his heel and ran after her. He left the grounds with a touch of relief; the farther he got, the quieter the Mask became. She was flying west, and he leapt onto Epona to keep suit.

Epona raced over familiar grounds, but he was never able to keep abreast with the Goddess. She was always ahead, just a bit farther ahead. When they broke through the mouth of Gerudo Valley, Epona simply leaping the log-fallen ditch impatiently, Link saw the Goddess furl her wings in and drop right over the chasm of the bridge. He jumped off, rushing to peer into the water below. Instead, he saw her perched on an edge preening delicately. She lifted her head to stare blatantly at him before turning and scrabbling her way into a cliffside cavern.

He let out a small gasp before looking around impatiently. A rope. He would need a rope to get down. He paused for a second before rummaging through his belongings, brandishing his hookshot. He motioned For Epona, taking the bit out for her mouth before directing her to stand still. Lightly tapping her hoof, he waited until she raised it before carefully laying the lead of the hookshot down. He directed it back to the ground, letting her full weight pin it before he gave a few tight tugs. The rope didn't budge. Tapping her foot with a sharp tsk had her lifting it, and he guided her as close to the cliff as he dared.

He huffed a breath before replacing the line under her hoof. Stepping back, he lifted his hands to her in a 'stay' gesture. Giving a tight tug on the rope, he observed her. She watched him coolly before dipping her head and nibbling on the grass. Her foot remained.

He took a few steps backward, heels dropping over the edge. He glanced at Epona again, receiving only an ear flick of acknowledgement, before he stepped back into the empty air.

* * *

I am editing this myself, so if anyone sees any blaring mistakes, please be kind and tell me what a moron I am. There's only so many times I can read the same passages before I'm craving something hot and chocolatey...

Either or, I've free time these past few days so the updates have been quick. It shall get a bit slower, pending on how much I can type out tomorrow before work.

As per normal, thank you ever so much for reading this, of which the subject matter does not in any way belong to me. Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Tango

Tango

* * *

The climb was a bit precarious, with little to no footholds. Most of it was him shifting weight back and forth with his feet flat against the cliffside to keep from twisting on the line. The release mechanism in the hookshot also failed to catch at one point, leaving him slithering down a good four feet before he managed to catch a withered root and re-engage the device. The last eight feet were spent with heaving breathes and slick hands - the gauntlets again helped him here. When he reached the small ledge, his hands were tense and twitching from the nerve-wracking trek. He called up to Epona, tugging sharply at the line. He remembered to step aside as the head of the hookshot came flying down.

Turning, he started sidling along toward the deep furrows left by the Goddess Bird. Just like before, the marks were filled with new life, purple flowers blooming and spilling out onto the deadened ground. He carefully stepped over them, only stooping to grab one and nibble on the honey-sweet petals. Peering into the tunnel, he carefully readjusted his equipment. He was going to have to crawl, and as he didn't yet have a replacement sword, he wanted to have his shield at ready just in case.

The stone slid under his belly at an almost uncomfortably warm temperature at the mouth of the tunnel, baked as it was in the sunlight. As he burrowed deeper, the stone steadily cooled. For the longest time, it was near the same heat as his body and he almost felt lost, like he was moving through a giant void. A chill air swept around him and broke him of that, leeching a shudder as well. It was much colder now, and a grey mist was wrapping up around him. He moved to swat it away with the arm still strapped to the shield, only to find that the metal passed through it, and the supposed tunnel wall, cleanly. Brow furrowed, he waved his hand a few times before cautiously raising his head. Meeting no resistance, he straightened up and looked about.

Now that he was on his feet, the oppressive grey mist was curling and tangling around his feet, tugging at the hems of his tunic and curling ethereal fingers around his supplies. He could see farther now too, grey fading lighter until it became a thick white, like the days when the clouds dropped and everything was foggy. Picked out here and there were darker shapes, flowing along at a steady if not mismatched pace. And much farther on, dead ahead, he could see a bright glint of gold and blue.

As he began to walk, he noted how the grey seemed to seep into his clothes and colour him the same. Nothing he possessed retained colour; his sword may have still gleamed, but the silvered surface was now matted and sad. Everything seemed like that, saddened and bereft. It was bit depressing, honestly. The more the colour was pulled from him, the more hopeless he felt. He found himself either forgetting faces or thinking about how little a hero was needed in a safe world. His mind would start to wander, getting clogged with the mist and the absolute silence of this place before he would catch that telltale glint of blue and be off again.

He started noticing, too, that every time he snapped back into it, the blurred dark shapes had moved closer. But it was like trying to catch water with a net; the harder he tried to focus, the easier he found it to slide off into oblivion. He started picking up his feet a bit higher, stepping just a bit quicker. Between that and the loss of attentiveness, he soon found he was running, trying to catch up with the blue Goddess bird. Footsteps made no sound, lost to the mist, nor did the shapes that were closing in behind him.

They were all sizes, some only appearing briefly over the crest of the mist as they leapt, whilst others towered and crushed anything underfoot. Fearing he might be added to that number, he pushed harder and harder until he couldn't feel the ground pounding under each step, until his breath was torn from his lungs and he felt the strong urge to collapse. It was at his most desperate moment, when he could almost _feel_ puffs of hot air on the back of his neck, that he broke through the fog.

He stumbled a bit, surrounded by sound and colour and, having it again making him realize he had **lost** it, smell. He was in a bowl-like valley, a single wide path stretching around from bottom-right to top in a circular direction. He started up, enjoying the heat of a mild summer sun and the scents carried on the breeze. It was enlivening to have it all back as well as have a clear head. He could still feel his nerves tingling from the chase, but his body was set on relaxing. He took it leisurely all the way up the path, noting with fascination another great bird statue. He refrained from touching this one, still remembered the tugging at his gut from the other one. This one was in a great deal better shape than the other, at the very least.

He turned instead to the wide doors, not even caring that they opened without a touch. Walking in with a curious wonder allowed him to ignore the slight brushing of colours over stagnant brick patterns. He proceeded up to the dais, not looking around him at all at this point. He could see the familiar blade of the Master Sword, with its blue twine hilt, and a young woman emitting a blue glow perched atop. She was standing daintily with one toe pointed downward, resting on the very top of the pommel. The other was currently kicked out behind her in a graceful silhouette. As he watched she gracefully spun and swept her leg out, finishing with a hop to the other foot. The entire time her voice lilted in a constant birdsong, never broken by her dancing. In front of her, shifting between plastered against the wall and pushing away with rage, was a massive black shadow. Coal-like red burned under the black, moving like muscle and ebbing as the heat died and glowing as it rekindled.

As the figure took a breath, he saw the beast's claws dig in to propel itself forward, but her song had it back to cowering. She paid no mind, her eyes actually closed as she sang. He couldn't even begin to understand the ancient words tumbling from her lips. He circled behind the blue-haired girl quietly, always keeping away from the shadowy figure. His hearing seemed to be muffled to all but her singing because he didn't hear anything shift behind him, didn't notice any kind of change until there was a sudden cold burst of air pushing into his back.

Spinning around and expecting the grey world again, he was surprised to see a shimmering mirror. Head cocked, he moved forward and touched the shimmering surface lightly. His hand made contact and splayed out, before it moved through the surface and allowed him to pass.

He found himself in a bowl-like valley, a single wide path stretching around from bottom-left to top in a circular direction. He started up, eyes wide and far more alert now. The same walk he had just taken at such a relaxing pace was now one filled with caution and alertness. Everything was opposite, from the path to the breeze. This place didn't carry the same energy as the mirror-image, almost seeming like it was dying even with the same amount of greenery. There was no birdsong in this glade.

He came up to the doors, just like before, noting the bird statue was completely crumbled and derelict. These doors did not open on a whim, and he struggled for a moment before he got a good enough foothold on the slick grass to push it open. The walls were shifting as before, but this time Link was aware enough to see it. As before, the dais sprawled out in front of him, but there was no blade and there was no woman singing. He went to examine the pedestal, catching out of the corner of his eye something strange against the stonework.

It was a massive growth of rock, belling out from the wall unnaturally. It was a calling for a bomb if ever he saw one. Laying down the explosive, he darted back and dove to the ground behind the sword's pedestal. Plugging his ears, he watched eagerly at the impending discovery. As the small explosion echoed, the flash caught something inside the stone before red crawled up and over, hiding everything in fire and smoke. Link was up to the unblemished stone before the smoke had even cleared, and his hand was ghosting over the surface, looking for that small reflection. His index finger sunk into a depression, a tiny slit in the stone just about throat level. Leaning down slightly he peered at the slit, turning his head this way and that to allow light to hit. The sun, he noted, hadn't moved at all since he had stepped through the tunnel in Gerudo Valley, so he didn't even have the sun's dying rays to conveniently catch it.

Digging through his quiver, he pulled out an arrow and unslung his bow. Carefully, so the arrowhead wouldn't hit the stone and flare out, he swept the burning tip along the stone in search of that niche again. As soon as he got even close, with such a bright well of light, the slit shone silver, molten and bright. He put the arrow out hurriedly and his free hand immediately delved into his satchel, digging around as his eyes remained on the hole. Fishing out the tiny silver key, he slid it neatly in and took a quick breath before turning it carefully. Implausibly, the rock started cracking not through the keyhole, but around the sides from top to bottom. He yipped in alarm as the rock started to fall forward, right where he was standing, and dodged to the side. This vantage gave him perfect view of the falling slab, allowed him to see the hollowed shell of one half hit the floor. Something white shifted around in the half, moving like a jelly. Link's eyes were, however, focused on the sword shard still mounted on the wall.

It was a black blade, a white wrapped hilt leading down to more intricate white patterns on the steel itself. A Triforce gleamed proudly not one foot above the jagged, ruined edges of the broken edge. Link's heart fell. He had been excited to once again feel the heft of a Goddess Blade in his hand, but a broken one... Unless he could find the other half, perhaps then the Gorons could reforge the steel? He could still hear the shifting of the liquid behind him, a strong distraction to his musing.

Spinning on his heel, he fought the strong urge to vomit. The fluid, whatever it had been, was moving and very much _alive_. It was attempting to stand, but moved like a body with no bones. Its legs, if that's what they were, were splayed out and undulating as it tried to balance on all fours. Its neck stretched out, a bulbous mass that must have been the head twisting multiples times. The flesh of the contorted neck swelled like a balloon as more strain was put on it, and two depressions formed and sunk deeper into the orb-like head. The neck suddenly snapped straight, arching higher until it was taut and looming over Link. The hollows were nearly at the back of the floating orb now, pushing further until it started to bell there too. Below the black holes, the flesh started melting and sliding down, leaving swells and dips and a widening maw. Its body was shortened as it fed more mass into its neck, regarding him from higher and higher.

Link took a step back, then another, clutching the hilt tightly. The head weaved side to side with each step, before it suddenly snapped back towards its rapidly lengthening body and launched. Link spun on his heel and ran, sprinting for the mirror and the other realm and safety. The monster behind him was slamming its body against the ground, each beat a launch as it propelled forward. Its legs smashed into the ground in an attempt to move faster yet, neck stretching as Link got close. The wide mouth engulfed its head, just one dark throat as it got closer yet and the edges of his tunic and the kicking boots as he ran sank farther and farther into its reach before the jaw would slam shut and he would be devoured, bones clean and bleaching in the sun-

He burst through the mirror, feet still carrying him as the monster slammed against the reflective surface. He didn't stop, didn't even look back but instead bolted down the valley, heading for the smoky realm once more. The world around him was fading out the closer he got to the portal, dark shapes starting to swarm now. He ripped off his gauntlet and displayed the hand that once held the power of the Triforce. As he hoped, the Goddess's power held sway yet and his hand glowed with an ethereal light. It banished the grey mist and black shapes, brightening more and more golden until he suddenly found himself staring directly at the sun.

And not in a metaphoric way.

He was literally staring at the sun.

He slowly sat up, feeling a tug at his hair. Turning his head he was face to face with a long horse nuzzle, before Epona simply pushed him over and started grazing on his hair again. He lay there in confusion now, simply accepting the fact that he was alive. His hand tightened, realizing that he still held the black and white blade. Holding it up to see, the light simply absorbed into the blade, creating a darkened aura around it. But still the Triforce glowed, even if only faintly. It was at least reacting to his birthright to carry the piece of courage.

Gently pushing Epona away he got to his feet, eyes trained on the blade. Something with this power would be known of by Zelda, at the very least. She was really the only one who could help him.

As it turned out, Link didn't end up making it to Princess Zelda. He had barely left Gerudo Valley (keeping a very wide birth from the North-Western Hyrule Fields) when a shadow fell over him and something raked at his head. His eyes shot up to see the blue bird carrying his hat off, heading towards the East.

He actually groaned, urging Epona after the bird. He appreciated the help of the Goddess, but he really couldn't understand why she was leading him to these places. So far he was no closer to the Great Beast of legend than he had been when he had started this journey. But if the Goddess had need of him...

He ended up outside of the Kokiri Forest, looking up the tree that had sheltered his once-home. Knowing what he did of fairies, he wondered if he would think any different of this place now. To know that they were once child-thieves and creatures that purposely led Hylians of old astray... He suddenly wondered about Stalfos, creatures so adept with a blade. Perhaps, long ago, they had been brave warriors seeking a fortune in a new world. Ones lost in woods and following lights, only to never come out again. That could easily have been his mother. That could easily have been him.

He swung down, patting Epona lightly before removing some tack. Leading her to the mouth of the path, he gave a slap on the hindquarters to send her galloping back to the ranch. She couldn't follow him for this step. He made sure the sword shard was strapped securely, before staring down at the sad mask in his hands. With a final word to the Goddess he put it on, feeling the cracking and shifting of bones as they expanded, pulling to the outside and solidifying, becoming a shell for a much smaller body. A Deku scrub stood now, looking up at the hollowed tree trunk that led to an ageless village.

* * *

Firstly, a thank you to Andrexas and Tigerlily234 for following, it really means a lot! I hope you're enjoying the story, it's about to get more involved!

Secondly, expect a new chapter every three to five days. As winter sets in, work gets busier so obviously that's gonna take a tad bit of precedence. But I will get them out at a decent rate, to all who make it this far!

Well, thanks for reading, and please rant or review!


	6. Diablada

***gets a bit graphic with squelchiness***

Diablada

* * *

Link did not go all the way into Kokiri Forest. He wasn't looking to find the Kokiri children. In fact, he was only traveling as far as the old swinging rope bridge. He had no plans on talking to anyone, but instead was looking for something a little more... monstrous. The Goddess bird had led him here, and there was only one connection that he could guess.

It had to be the fairies.

He wasn't exactly comfortable with the notion. He really wasn't sure how they would handle an adult human trespassing in their realms. He wasn't even sure if they would attempt to lose him in the forest like they had so many before him. Not like he didn't know his way through this forest, but it was always better to be precautionary. And besides, he had the Scrub mask. It would be fine.

He started at a familiar place, a small tree stump doused in streams of dappled sunlight. He clambered up before pulling out the familiar Deku Pipes and playing the chipper melody of an old friend. It took only half a second for a figure to flip out of, seemingly, thin air on a tree stump across the way. The Skull Kid regarded him quietly for a moment before giggling. "You here for the birdie? Gotta catch me!"

Link chirruped as the Skull Kid hobbled off, scrambling to catch up himself. It wasn't a ridiculously fast-paced race, both of them weaving in and out of paths and ducking back around time after time as the Skull Kid felt more playful. Finally, after arriving in a clearing that Link for the life of him could not recognize, his pursuit plunked down with a cheery laugh.

"No one has played with me in so long! I like you, kid! People stopped coming in to these woods so long ago. There was a boy, once, who used to play music for me on an ocarina. He left me all alone, just like the others..." He traced a few lines in the dirt before snapping his head back up, tilted on an angle. "You remind me of him. Will you be my friend?"

Link cocked his own head, before dropping his snout towards the ground in thought. After a moment, he raised it and nodded vigorously. It really had been a long time since he had been to his old home. Maybe when this was all over, he'd come back and play for his old friend.

The black face of the Skull Kid split into a grin before he tossed his head back and laughed. "They said you'd be nice, Mr. Scrub! They said you'd pass the test! C'mon, they want to meet you. Follow me! But you have to play as we walk! We'll have a parade!" He hopped to his feet and marched on as Link obligingly piped along behind. As they walked down a dark tunnel, lights started to get brighter at the end of the tunnel. Soon orbs were floating about them, darting and giggling and even landing to dance along to the jaunty tune. The path lead higher and higher until he was suddenly brought into such bright light, golds and greens shifting with the wind. It was like viewing the forest through a hundred, a thousand crystals. The wood of the tunnel path he'd walked continued to spiral up the now-apparent tree, winding higher into the top reaches. Blue butterflies flitted about, catching the light just as much as droplets of water. A sweet breeze had trickled in as well, smelling of sweet water reeds and fresh grass.

He didn't have to climb any higher, as the fairies that had been dancing so merrily suddenly took off in a flash, leaving him and the Skull Kid alone. He turned to peer inquisitively, only to see his companion backing away and making a hasty retreating backflip. He turned his gaze forward to see a figure materializing in. She appeared seated on a throne of dropped tree vines, clad in delicate webs and leaves. She cocked her head and stared at him with a mysterious look before her laughter, deep and vibrant, shimmered through the trees.

"Remove your mask, little companion. I have heard of you from your dear Navi. I know who you are, and what you seek. But I will talk to your true face." Link complied, slipping the mask off. In her presence, the pain of transforming seemed to be dimmed somewhat. "Ah, there are the blue eyes I was told of! Little Hero, you seek the path laid out by the Goddess. Well... I cannot just give you what you seek. My kind, we speak in trade. You have proven worthy of fairies by assisting young Navi. But I want something... more. An item, something that was given to you by the Goddess. I was not so lucky as the other fairies. I was not deemed worthy of a gift wrought by her hand. I want it, child, and you will not advance without sacrifice."

Link started, before a hand dropped to his sash. Slowly he removed the vibrant red feather, passing it over his hand to cherish the absolute silk of the filaments. He didn't hesitate after that moment, merely holding his hand out with the feather laid flat.

She smiled, slow and predatory, before snatching it. Long nails caught slightly on his wrist, and he stubbornly ignored the trickling blood. She held it above her head with a shriek before vanishing in a flash, the throne and a section of the tree trunk behind her going as well. The remaining hole was small, too small for his human body. With a quiet sigh he slipped the mask back on. Something told him he hadn't seen the last of that Great Fairy.

The hole ended up leading to a narrow, spiraling path, carved as it seemed around the core of the tree. It crept down and down, but was lit by strange glowing plants. In his Scrub form he had little visibility, so the glow was a much appreciated helping hand as he travelled deeper into the heart of it. When he saw soil starting to push up into the tree, roots entwining, the path cut off quite suddenly and branched in opposite directions. He felt a tug, pulling at his gut until he started down the left path. The way never declined nor inclined, and just cut through a multitude of terrain. He saw, by light of the crawling glow-plant, old-hewn bricks give way to solid stone and then packed soil. More roots, plain and unlit, dropped down and made little crawlspaces. It was a pretty difficult navigation, his short legs tripping on each and every obstacle.

His first slightly larger chamber had him transforming back human to huddle against the damp earth, nibbling on some greens that he had plucked from the Lost Woods. He peered onwards, noting the slight widening of the tunnel. He would be able to travel in his natural form from now on; it would be tight, but more comfortable than falling over the roots. He continued, belly to the ground as he slithered on.

The path erupted quite spectacularly into a wide, echoing chamber, walls rounding and catching each sound only to carry and amplify. The sounds of his scuffling seemed to vibrate along, almost carrying a voice with it. Eerie at best, and downright threatening at worst. As he walked farther, the voice seemed to ring with his footsteps and multiply, a cacophony of singing that fell more and more out of tempo. He felt that tugging, the one that had led him this direction, roiling and settling deep in his gut. It was an icy feeling, causing a wracking chill to sweep up his spine and light a freezing burn along every nerve. He doubled over at the force of muscle contraction, and registered a clattering that silenced all sounds but his ragged breathing. Opening one eye with a wince, he saw Majora's Mask staring back up at him, eyes glowing more than normal, illuminating the floor around him and then rotting it away. He choked a sound and fell back, eyes wide as he watched the floor ooze down around the mask. The ring only spread so far before it stretched upwards, a sinewy stalk nearly as high as the ceiling.

It swung around bonelessly before the mask's eyes set on him. Even as its head stayed still, the rest of its body worked on lashing free of the ground, dragging the entire snake-like rotting length out. As the tail flicked free, spraying the perfectly round walls with a dissolving acid, the beast launched forward and slammed the space Link had just desperately leapt from. He spun around to face it, eyes wide and desperately searching. The tunnel he come in from was on the other side of the beast. Its body was coiled again, ready to leap, when Link caught sight of shifting movement on the ground as thin filaments of thread twisted and danced along. As it propelled forward he rolled under and out of the way, eyes on the thread. They could very well be a weak point.

As it recollected, the threads snapped off the ground and pulled taut. Gore spattered out, blood running down the strands in rivulets. They were attached to a mass settled in the far reach of the room, a bundled mass of hair and dried flesh. As he watched, the threads thickened and buried deeper in the decayed skin. The blood started pumping up the muscle, feeding into it and turning it red, red, red. Strands thickened and Link could see straight down the flaked mess of the throat, where the head should have been. See it swelling with life, _hear_ the whistling as half-formed lungs tried to breathe through the reconstructed column.

More strands attached at it moved again, almost losing interest as it reached instead for life. As blood poured down from the rotting entity to the one being remade, both started moving. The single front paw of the body moved slightly, before cruel claws curled up and flexed, digging into the ground. The back claws scrabbled before gaining purchase, sinking into the flagstone beneath. It hefted itself up, blood dripping down the spinal cord and forming into heaving skinless flank. As it raised, Link caught a glimpse of black buried deep in a rib, jutting out at a sharp and unnatural angle. Not part of the beast then.

The rotted Majora snake had wrapped around the hinds of the creature, shifting farther up and seeping into it. The rear legs and long, bony tail were completely formed but still scraped raw of skin. It wrapped higher around the empty cavity of the beast, bloodied threads forcing their way into the lower rib cage and rejuvenating cusps of organs back into functioning order. The body reared back and Link saw the black shard catch light, glinting and highlighting white intricately.

He didn't pause, simply running forward and drawing out the shattered half-blade of the Goddess. He used the fragment to slash and hack at any connecting threads he encountered, coating his tunic thoroughly with blood. The strands didn't cut, bunching under the blade before springing up and throwing yet more red and gore. It was enough to stop them from attaching more firmly to the higher rib he was going for, though. He dove into the chest cavity, grabbing for the black fragment - it could only be the second half of the Goddess blade he held - with his gauntleted hands. Even with the protection, the blade bit deeply into tender palms as he yanked, and didn't even begin to budge. The strands were, meanwhile, starting up towards him, laying down more and more muscle. His light was starting to dim as the living flesh built up around him.

Desperately he plunged the hilted blade into the rib, arm jerking to the side and nearly breaking as the two ends met far more cleanly than should have been possible. A bright glow, compliments to the Triforce etched into the blade, engulfed the building creature and burned away viciously at anything surrounding Link. He swept the blade in a wide arc and cut clean out of the beast, rolling when he hit the ground and leaving a wet, bloody smear. Whipping around, he watched as the chest re-knit and Majora's Mask finally reached the stumped neck. It was standing now, balance thrown on three legs to accommodate the missing front paw. The collar bone, also absent, led to a shifting, unbalanced stance. It would still for a moment before one side would unhinge and grotesquely droop towards the floor, and all the while the mask body pulled higher and encompassed the neck completely. The body stood now, full and bloody, as the mask attempted to form into a head. It oozed shapelessly as flesh crawled up, stopping just past the remaining structure. The face of the creature, the mask itself, was attached to a shallow blob that oozed and stretched without a skull to form it. Link shuffled back, sword tip pointing towards the now-focusing mask eyes even as his shoulders dropped at the overwhelming size of it.

_That's right, you fool. Stand there and be devoured. I could use the entertainment._

The voice spurred Link to leap to the side, adrenaline pumping at full force. The beast - Majora?- threw its body after him, obviously not used to the heft of its new size. Link skidded up to the rounded walls, nearly flat on his back and pressed as tightly as he could. Majora's bulk slid after him before crashing shoulder-first about fifteen feet above him. The lack of collar bone had its body slowly crumpling inwards and the gap between its body and the wall was rapidly shrinking.

_Unless I'm mistaken, you are about to be crushed. Shall I calculate a percentage? Can your feeble little brain even comprehend simple mathematics?_

Majora had peeled off the wall by now, the blood smear considerably smaller now that more flesh had grown to cover exposed muscle. Its head swiveled around blindly, the great yellow eyes passing over him a multitude of times before locking on. It moved a leg forward, the one without a paw, and stepped down, causing the entire weight of it to shift forward and tumble harshly to the ground. It went down, and Link saw the tunnel entrance just off to its left. He bolted as Majora attempted yet again to right itself. Link ran forward, planting a foot firmly on the fallen leg of the beast before throwing himself up and over it. He hit the ground hard, but with a roll, and ignored the flash of pain in his ribs as he pelted full speed toward the tunnel. Behind him, Majora had recovered from the stumble and was in the process of wheeling as Link dove for the opening. He hit the ground with a scream, half curling to protect his ribs, but dug his hands into the loose cobblestone to heave himself bodily through the tunnel entrance. Majora slammed yet again into the wall, before it reared up and slammed both front legs -one paw, one stump - and raked claws down the length it. The grating noise filled Link's ears, drowning out the pestering voice in his head.

He clapped his free hand against his ear, the other twitching convulsively around the hilt. Behind him the walls shook with the pounding of the beast. Link painstakingly pulled his sword arm in front of him, again and again, and dragged himself to relative safety. It was a good while, shift, drag, shift, before the thudding stopped. His left ear still rang harshly, and the blood leaking from it stained his jaw. He registered a voice nipping in his head, but he simply couldn't focus. The ringing drowned out all else save a gathering whiteness, and Link finally fell unconscious.

* * *

I'm not quite done being mean to Link. He'll get a bit of a break, eventually. Thank you all for sticking with this, and I'm really excited to get more of this going! No one reads this before I post, so it's flattering to see I've gotten over 100 (squee!) views.

Thanks again to Andrexas and Tigerlily234, and a very special thanks to Sorces for joining the fray!

Hope you enjoyed the read, and feel free to comment of rant should you so feel the urge.


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